


Snapdragons

by JxsmineSkye



Category: Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/F, Illustrated, M/M, NSFW, Self-Harm, Strong Language, minimal drug use, neurodivergent character interpretations, transgender character interpretation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JxsmineSkye/pseuds/JxsmineSkye
Summary: It was gray, rainy and windy the day Maxie Talmhainn missed the bus to work. He'd missed it like a damned fool and had to go slogging through a deluge of chilled water, glasses effectively made useless by the running rivulets streaming down his lenses.  Soaked and near the tattoo shop, //his tattoo shop, he removed his glasses, hoping to somehow dry them on his sopping sleeve. It was then, in that moment of complete blindness that he slammed into the back of a very warm and solid person. With a clatter and a muffled shout, he fell over backwards, landing hard on his tailbone. That was how it all started.
{ Maxie/Archie, Tabitha/Matt, Courtney/Shelly are the major pairings. Currently drawing this story as a comic in addition to writing it here! This story will deal with some heavy subject matter including drugs, self harm, mental illness etc. etc. }





	1. When it Rains it Pours

# Snapdragons

### Chapter 1: When it Rains it Pours

The rain was cold as it fell around him. Somewhere off in the distance he could hear the slow creeping boom of thunder. Lights were blurred blobs of color and people were smudged figures passing around him in muted silence. He envied them, just then, what with their working vision and the shelter of their umbrellas. He thought wistfully of his own umbrella back home, nestled in the little alcove by the front door. The only reason he didn't have it open just then was because he hadn’t intended to _walk_ to work. The bus was his preferred mode of transportation; It was reliable, reasonably quick and its first stop of the day was quite conveniently close to his apartment.

Today, however, he had missed it. He had missed it like a goddamn fool and now he was paying for it dearly. His expression was undoubtedly caustic and sour, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as he glared through the deluge around him. Curse words bubbled up in his mouth, boiling behind his teeth as he fought the almost violent anger he felt, not at anyone in particular, but at the situation.

With a grunt and a grumble, a hand was lifted to brush hair out of his face while the other fumbled with his slick, chunky glasses. They were useless to him at the moment and, if his squinted, straining eyes were to be believed he was approaching his place of work: Terra Firma Tattoo. It was a small and unsuspecting shop formed in red brick with tinted windows opening out to the world. The dark shade of the glass made it difficult to see anything clearly, but it showed the outlines of desks and paintings and charts. Currently there were only two silhouettes where there would normally be three, but given the state of the weather outside, nobody was likely to notice. Maxie couldn't make out anything other than the brightly lit and irregularly shaped sign glowing ahead of him.

The first mistake Maxie Talmhainn had made was missing the bus. The second was taking off his glasses and looking down. One minute he was continuing to slog forward. The next he was slamming into the warm, solid back of something or someone and his shoulders were slamming painfully into the wet pavement. There was a moment of pained, dazed mumbling and a liberal use of the word “Fuck” as he rubbed at his face, his neck, his head.

“Oh, shit!” A low voice rumbled above him. There was the distinctly ceramic sound of something heavy being set down. Maxie was more concerned with finding his glasses, swallowing wave after wave of anger as he fumbled on the cold wet ground. They were somewhere, they had to be. He hoped they hadn’t gone flying into the street. Quite suddenly – And without his permission, might he add – He felt a strong grip under his arms and soon his tall, lanky form was set back on its feet. “You okay?” The rain was subsiding though it still came down quite substantially and Maxie had to squint to see through the streams of water. His thin body shuddered in the wet sheath of his clothes which were practically vacuum sealed to his body by this time.

Maxie turned a cold stare on the stranger, noting with a tinge of embarrassment that his glasses were in their hand. He snatched them back and pressed them back into place, wiping at the lenses furiously to get a good look at the obstruction that had dared to get in his way. He had such a choice rant selected for this blundering fool. It was heated enough to warm him up in the face. He lifted a finger, opened his mouth and-

It was mistake number three. He shouldn’t have looked. His anger died in an instant, shriveling and sputtering out like a flame under water. The other’s face was kind, eyes warm and expression earnestly concerned. “I-“ Maxie couldn’t manage a reply. He tried to dig his fingers back into that rage, but he couldn't seem to manage it. He simply couldn’t find his tongue. “W-“ There was a clearing of the throat. “Just fine, thank you.” His pallid face burned and he turned his gaze to a point just behind the stranger’s head. It was easier than staring at that guilty, _concerned_ expression.

The stranger sighed in relief, a smile quirking his lips. “Good. Glad to hear it.” He tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing. There was something searching quizzical in his gaze as blue eyes traced over Maxie's features. “You work down that way, right? Past the pet shop?” He jerked a thick thumb backwards, pointing vaguely towards Maxie’s shop.

“Yes.” The answer was suspicious, one of Maxie’s brows lifted in a slow, dramatic arch. A pause. “Why.” It was a question, obviously, but it came out a statement.

“Yeah! Thought so. Uh, heh, I own the shop here uh, we just moved in last night. Saw you leaving." He scratched at the back of his neck, finally seeming to comprehend that his line of questioning could be considered intrusive or off-putting. "Had a few more things to move this morning but,” He trailed off, gesturing to the stack of large, orange pots that he’d been carrying when Maxie had crashed into him. “Name’s Archie, by the way. Who’re you?” A muscled, dark arm was extended in his direction and he found himself staring down at it. He was very pale compared to Archie, dotted with freckles and without the dark covering of hair. It was strange to see someone who stood in such plain juxtaposition to himself. He considered taking Archie’s hand and shaking. It would be polite.

After a long pause he obliged, setting his thin hand into the other’s, fingers squeezing lightly and wrist giving a limp shake. “Maxie.” The answer came out more clipped than he’d intended and he found himself recoiling from the other’s grip, lifting a thin finger to his lips to bite lightly at the skin on the side of his thumb. Even with the clinging damp of the rain on his skin, Archie was warm and his grip was strong. His stomach did a flip. _An arm was tightly wrapped around his middle and his spine curved inward to try and quell the sensation._

Archie’s brows lifted in surprise, as if he was confused by Maxie’s withdrawal. “Y’alright? You’re wetter than a drowned rat. Must be freezing! Come inside.” He moved to open the door to his shop, hooking a foot through the bottom and looking expectantly at Maxie. Heat was creeping up the latter’s neck and face, giving his hair a run for its money. He felt his glasses slipping down his nose while his mind raced to capture the details of this moment. He was loathe to admit to a feeling so sentimental but… it felt special. Like the beginning of something very important. Archie laughed, tilting his head just slightly. 

"Your pots." Maxie said, lamely, as if that was some sort of deterrent from this very personable, kind offer. "Shouldn't you take care of them? It seems irresponsible to leave them there. Someone could trip or, or damage them."

Archie laughed, tilting his head just slightly. “I'll get 'em in a bit. C’mon, I’m not gonna bitecha. I have some clothes you can borrow.” Maxie took a step forward, trying to quell his sudden and unwelcome nerves. The offer of a fresh set of clothes was inviting even though…

Looking over the other’s very athletic and well-built form, Maxie could quite plainly imagine how ridiculous these clothes would look on him. Like a scarecrow in old scraps of cloth, most likely. Still, being soaked to his core was terribly uncomfortable. He decided to bite the bullet and follow Archie out of the rain, under the awning of his shop and into the maw of this unfamiliar establishment.

“Atta boy!” Archie cheered, clapping a hand against Maxie’s thin back and sending his shoulders buckling forward. Maxie felt a vein in his forehead pulsing, flush rushing back into his face again at the indignation of being touched so abruptly. His posture went ramrod straight and he stood there shivering as he dripped water onto the floor. He looked around, waiting for his eyes to adjust to both the return of his glasses and the new, artificial lighting that had flooded his eyes upon entry.  
Archie let the door close behind him, striding out into the middle of the floor and taking a place a few paces ahead of Maxie. He grinned again, and Maxie thought perhaps the lights had gotten brighter or the air had grown warmer. “So whaddya think?”

An excellent question. Now that his eyes had adjusted, what did he think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is always welcome! Also, please note that on my tumblr you can follow the progress of the comic I'm drawing as a companion to this.


	2. Whiplash

### Chapter 2: Whiplash

###    


His initial thought was that the shop was cluttered at best and tacky at the very worst. He fought to keep a neutral expression as his eyes darted from crammed corner to crammed corner. The flowers littering the crooked tables and shelves were lovely and obviously well cared for, but to him all that mattered was the utter disarray of everything else. He couldn’t say that, though. It would be rude. He glanced back at Archie’s face, forcing a stiff smile.

“Oh it’s very nice.” _With plenty of room for improvement_. He didn’t have to say what he was thinking aloud to be truthful, did he? No, he thought not. He stepped a bit further in, feet squeaking loudly against the tiles. “Very nice.” He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself of the fact. Or maybe he was trying to convince Archie that he believed what he was saying. Either way, it was uncomfortable. He wished the other would take the initiative and move the conversation along.

There was another friendly laugh. “Yeah, it’ll look better after this week. There’s a lot of unpacking to do. Like, a metric ass ton of unpacking.” He walked ahead of Maxie, casting him a friendly grin as he turned a corner to a crammed set of shelves. These weren’t crammed with gardening supplies, however, they had spare clothes and little amenities for himself and the two other employees in the shop. There were t-shirts and shorts, pairs of sweat pants, towels, granola bars, wash cloths, perhaps three or four fully stocked first aid kits and that was only what they’d found room for on the shelves. Archie hummed to himself, shuffling through the piles of supplies in search of a suitable shirt for his guest. Almost everything was too large at a glance and it seemed unlikely he would find anything smaller. He stepped back and glanced around the corner again, taking his waterlogged guest in with a more critical gaze.

Nope, he was just as small as he’d been when he first saw him. The only noticeable change in the other was his increasingly apparent discomfort: Maxie was shuffling awkwardly in place, glancing around and nibbling at the corner of his thumb. It was endearing if not a little concerning. There was no reason for Maxie to feel so nervous, Archie thought to himself, throwing himself back into the task of finding him a spare shirt.

“Do you want me to bring you a pair of sweats or-?” Archie called over his shoulder, finally settling on a soft, well-worn shirt that was still comically too large for its purpose, but good enough.

“What? Pants? Ah, no, no that’s um alright. Quite alright.” Archie couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was so formal, so stiff! It was well out of the reality of the interactions that Archie found himself dealing with from day to day. “What’s funny.” Again, that curt question that sounded too much like a statement.

Archie shook his head as he emerged from the back again, still grinning good-naturedly. “Oh, nothin’. Just surprised by your fancy talk.” He held out the shirt to Maxie, his other hand lifting in a pacifist gesture. “Not laughin’ atcha I swear. It’s just different.”

Maxie’s skin again was subjected to the telling, mottled blush he’d been sporting so much of this encounter. He took the shirt quickly, glancing off to the side and clearing his throat. “Ah. Well… That’s… Alright then.” He wrung the shirt in his hands finding that he quite liked the softness of the fabric. There was a long pause where the two seemed to be processing the other.

“Why exactly did you have that back there?” Maxie asked, finally, quirking a brow and lifting his chin in question. Archie shrugged, slinging his arms behind his head and joining his fingers.

“Well, we do a lot of work with dirt so… I dunno. We thought it might be cool to keep some clean stuff back there. Nobody wants to go home all dirty. Well,” A grin. “Not too dirty.”

Maxie nodded. That made sense and it was very good, practical thinking. He liked that. “I see. Well, thank you. Is there somewhere I can go to change?”

“Oh, nah, it’s cool! You can change right here if you want.” He smiled encouragingly. Maxie did not.

“I would rather… not.” Archie’s brows lifted in mild surprise, but he nodded his understanding, turning to glance over his shoulder as if to remind himself of the layout of his shop.

“Alright, uh… Well, there’s the little corner back there and a store room in the back. Take your pick.” He took a step to the side, planting himself by the wall. He wondered if Maxie’s hesitation to change out here was a part of embarrassment or perhaps formal stuffiness on his part. Maybe a combination of both.

Maxie nodded his understanding and headed past Archie quite briskly, his long legs carrying him into the back room where he was thrown into a much more dimly lit room. He saw long rows of pots extending into the darkness, some as big and bigger than the ones Archie had left outside on the sidewalk. Those were probably filled with water by now, Maxie thought dryly as he peeled his wet sweater back from his skin and let it plop wetly to the ground beside him. He pulled the replacement shirt over his head with little trouble, though he was somewhat dismayed by just how big it was. He did in fact look like a scarecrow stuffed awkwardly into an old shirt.

That aside, it was very soft and it smelled very nice. Like soap and faintly of the flowers that perfumed the air outside. He stooped to collect his sweater before stepping back through the doors and into the room with Archie.

“Aw, shit, sorry man. If there was something smaller I’d go get it for you but uh-“

“No, no it’s alright. Thank you, it’s much better.” Maxie smiled genuinely for the first time that day. He set his sweater down on the table nearest him and took a moment to try and rearrange his hair which felt grossly out of place after the rush over in the wind and the rain.

Archie found himself observing the smile very closely. It looked out of place on the other’s face – He’d looked so austere since they first met! – but it also looked good. Striking, even. He glanced away before the other had time to notice him staring, focusing on one of the flowering trees potted off in the corner. He didn’t mind the silence, but he found himself wanting to get to know Maxie better. There was just something compelling about such a nice smile. “So, how long have you been at the shop next door?"

“Oh… five years or so.” Maxie saw no reason to rush off. He was already late to work and nothing could change that. He might as well enjoy the conversation with Archie, maybe even get to know him better. There was something very compelling about somebody so kind and willing to help another person. “Is this shop a completely new experience for you or is this just a relocation?”

“Just a relocation. We’ve had the shop for maybe two or three years.” Archie spoke with pride. “Our shop did real well where we’re from. Lots of people were sad to see us go.”

“Why did you move then?” Maxie asked, genuinely curious now. He sat up on the table next to his soaked sweater, leaning forward and lifting a hand to nibble, again, at the side of his thumb.

There was a whistle and a shrug. “It just seemed like a good idea. The town felt smaller and, uh, I dunno. Didn’t seem like anything was going to get worse, but nothing was going to get better, y’know?”

“I think I might.” Maxie replied, sympathetically. He knew that claustrophobic feeling of stagnation. The strange, creeping knowledge that there was something better to be found or done. He kept this to himself, though. It wouldn’t do to reveal such an abstract and sentimental notion. “Do you like your job?” He continued, hoping to move the conversation away from this topic. It made him feel… strangely constricted.

“Oh, yeah! It’s great. You get to meet a lot of real nice people and growing flowers is almost as good as owning a pet.”

“You think so?” Maxie asked, somewhat coyly. He himself had a pet back home in his apartment and he couldn’t quite imagine the comparison holding much water. “Do you have a pet yourself?”

“Yep, yep!” Archie reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered phone with a cracked screen, flicking it on with the push of a button and bringing up a photo of a large, mutt of a dog grinning up at the camera. Its tongue lolled happily from its mouth. He stepped closer to Maxie to give him a better view.

Maxie gave an indulgent smile, touching lightly at the corner of the phone and tilting it to cast off the glare of the fluorescent lights overhead. “Very nice.”

Archie took this closeness as an opportunity to get a better look at the tattoos marking up Maxie’s pale skin. There was a string of stars going up his neck and a strange pattern of stripes cuffing his shoulder or at least what Archie could see of said shoulder. Down his arm there were more bands and lines and then there was something purple and roping and-

“Hey, what happened here?” He pointed with his free hand at what looked to be a deep scar and Maxie blinked, stunned into silence. There were a great many deep purple lines, on closer inspection.

“This or that, I can’t recall.” The once warm, relaxed expression sharpened and grew distant once more. Maxie slid off of the table and landed easily on his feet. He ducked under Archie’s thick arm and quickly made his way towards the door. “Thank you for the shirt. Really. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.” His voice was clipped again, as it had been when they’d still been outside under the pouring rain and Archie had handed him back his glasses. It felt awful, really.

All of the warmth that Maxie had begun to display vanished so abruptly it almost felt like it had never been there at all. “No, hey, wait-!” The door opened and the bell rang. He caught a glimpse of Maxie’s discreet glance over his shoulder before the other was gone.

Archie sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair and cursing quietly to himself. He’d really managed to fuck that up, hadn’t he? He looked down and caught sight of the other’s discarded sweater. For a moment the sodden lump didn’t seem to resemble anything, but, on closer inspection he recognized it as Maxie’s.

There was some concern at seeing it left behind but, really, Archie was quite pleased to have an excuse to seek Maxie out again. He could make up for this social blunder and maybe try to coax another of those warm moments out of the other. He grinned to himself, plucking up the wet cloth and setting it behind the main counter near his bag. He would wash it tonight and then-

He would need a plan, wouldn’t he? A way to make sure his apology read correctly and didn’t cause another of these awkward, whiplash-esque shifts in mood. Before he could think, however, there was a shout and the sound of ceramic glass breaking outside.

“Shit.” Archie sighed, thinking back to the pots he’d left outside. Bad move, Archie, he thought. Very bad move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is exceedingly late and I'm not sure that I like it very much, but there's no way to progress if we don't keep pushing! Constructive criticism is always welcome and I truly hope you enjoy. <3


	3. Backtracking

Chapter 3: Backtracking

 

                _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ Maxie’s face was perfectly poised, but his mind erupted and steamed like a volcano ready to shake itself apart. He’d let somebody too close. They had seen a part of him that he wasn’t ready to show them. They had seen a part of him that undermined everything he had worked to achieve. He felt vulnerable and exposed, and yet… Claustrophobic. Like something was crushing close and heavy down on top of him.

                He stepped into his shop, greeted by the scent of astringent Green Soap and the soft ambivalent music of the radio stationed in the back. _It’s just the world… That’s all it is…_ Maxie heard the lyrics distantly, stepping inside and dropping his bag behind the front desk as he always did. His shoes squeaked and squelched against the dark linoleum of the floors. His movements were jerky. Sharp, even.

                His receptionist Courtney watched with her typical glossy, flat expression. She scribbled idly on a blank sheet of paper, glancing between her boss and her drawing with slow sweeps of her eyes. In the back of the shop, the distinct sound of a tattoo machine whirring and drilling could be heard. “Hello, sir~” Courtney sing-songed. Her voice was robotic, words lilting and carefully contrived to sound artificial. With Maxie, however, she managed to pump something distinctly – and irritatingly - saccharine into her tone. Her chin was planted into her palms and she stared up at him. Her eyes flicked up and down, looking over his disheveled appearance.

                “You’re a little late today, aren’t you?” Maxie waved the question away, glancing up at the clock stationed on the far wall behind her. He was about an hour and a half late. A full ninety minutes late. To his own store. “Wardrobe malfunction?” She brushed a delicate hand over her paper, expertly concealing the scribbled design she’d been sketching.

                “Yes, hello to you too, Courtney.” Maxie said, voice brittle. “Appointments for today?” There was a hum and a rustle as the dead eyed girl shuffled her papers unnecessarily before cupping the computer mouse in her palm. She clicked once, twice, three times before bringing up the spreadsheet schedule.

                “Well, you had one twenty minutes ago which Tabitha took over for you.”

                “ _Shit._ ” Maxie recoiled at the statement, fidgeting and raking a hand through his hair. Courtney held up a finger, lightly bumping it against her darkly painted lips.

                “You have another in an hour. Don’t worry. There’s plenty for you to do. I have the idea of what they want right here.” She slid a paper across the desk to him and waited for him to take it. He snatched it up from the desk and nodded, stalking past her with his head down. Courtney watched as he went, silently observing the way he plopped down and began to scribble distractedly. She toyed with a strand of purple hair – freshly dyed – and licked at her lower lip, wheels turning in her head.

                Terra Firma Tattoo had a well-established routine and any divergence from the norm was cause for concern. Courtney, being the receptionist and close confidante of both boys in the shop, knew their tells _intimately_ well. Today, for instance, Maxie was late, damp and uncharacteristically dressed which was likely not a good sign. It wasn’t necessarily a bad sign either, but it was a sign all the same. Courtney, for all her analytical silence was a deeply intuitive person and far be it from her to ignore a gut feeling. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she dropped to the floor and began to fish through Maxie’s bag. Her delicate fingers were quick, zipping through pockets and hooking through the space to feel for a loop of metal.

                She found them in an instant and popped back up. Courtney cast a searching glance over her shoulder, noting that Maxie was still hunched over his work table drawing away. The music still played in the background and the tattoo machine still whined in the back room. Humming along to the tune on the radio, she stepped out from behind the desk and plucked her phone from her pocket before heading out of the store.

[ TEXT : Tabby ] Keep the boss busy. I need to go grab him something from his house. (*ﾟｰﾟ)ゞ

~

                Tabitha’s pocket vibrated and he sighed, glancing down at his hip. There was a small light blinking through the red denim of his pants. He blotted at his borrowed client’s arm with a sterile rag, wiping away stray ink. “I’m so sorry, if you’ll excuse me for just one second-” He set the cloth down and turned in his seat, needle hovering up by his ear as he plucked his phone from his pocket. The text lit up his screen and he found himself scowling, trying to make sense of Courtney’s request.

[ TEXT : Court ] Um… k? You’re gonna be quick though right???

He flicked his phone back off and stuffed it in his pocket before picking back up his rag. Tabitha was a young man who talked himself up but shied away from actual criticism. He lived in the shadows of his family and friends, often imagining how wonderful it would be to step into the spotlight but fleeing from any actual opportunity to do so. He hated the thought of being judged. He was _terrified_ of being disappointing. He especially hated what he was going to have to do next. With a sigh, he leaned forward to his client.

                “Hey. I’m going to bring my boss in, but uh… nothing’s wrong. Don’t worry, everything’s fine. Just need to keep him busy for a bit. Is that alright with you miss uh-“

                “Shelley.” The woman reminded him, smiling lightly and letting her head tilt back. Her hair caught the light as did her shimmery blue eyeshadow. “Alright, thanks for the heads up. You want me to play along?”

                Tabitha seemed marginally comforted by her good humor. “Could you please? That’d be great.” Shelley nodded and readjusted in her seat, looking curiously over her shoulder for this elusive _Boss_ her tattoo artist was talking about.

                “What do you need me to do?” She asked, leaning forward conspiratorially while keeping her elbow anchored on the chair. She didn’t want to make extra work for him by moving out of position.

                “Mm, just like uh…” He tried to think of a scenario that wouldn’t end with Maxie chewing his pride up and spitting it back out. “Maybe ask for his opinion and see if there are any changes he would suggest to the design? Seems like a pretty neutral thing, y’know?”

                “Consider it done.” The woman replied, winking.

                “Hey uh… Boss?” Tabitha called.

                There was an audible sigh and, if Tabitha wasn’t mistaken a _growl_ from the other room. “What is it?”

                “The uh… Could you come and check on the… the uh, the client? She wanted to know if you had a suggestion for her uh… thing?”

                “Totally saved it.” She murmured, giving his hand a little pat.

                “What is it, Tabitha?”

~

                Matt hadn’t seen the pots. He really hadn’t. He’d been distracted as he approached the shop by a blur of red and blue darting out the door. He’d had a vague thought that perhaps something was wrong, maybe he was witnessing a robbery before he went tripping headlong over the cluster of orange ceramics. “Aw, crap!” He groaned, rubbing at a sore and grazed elbow and surveying the destruction he’d managed to cause. Archie emerged from the shop a moment later, eyes wide as he took in the scene. There was a relieved sigh from above. It was a bummer that a fellow employee had taken a tumble and shattered some stock, but at the very least it wasn’t a liability.

                “Y’alright?” Archie asked, extending a hand to help Matt up.

                Matt grunted in affirmation, dusting himself up and feeling for moisture on his person. He’d gotten lucky, apparently as there was minimal dampness to the seat of his pants and the lower left leg. That’d dry in no time. No problem. “I’m so sorry man, I totally didn’t see them.”

                There was another sigh, this one perhaps more bemused than anything. “No worries, bud. I shouldn’t’ve left them there, anyway. You’re gonna clean ‘em up though.”

                There was a nod and the two men went into the shop, Archie to continue with preparations for cleaning up the shop and welcoming new customers and Matt with the task of finding the broom and dustpan.

                “Dude, I saw some guy come running out of the shop before I ate shit. Is everything okay?”

                “Huh?” Archie blinked in surprise at the mention of his encounter with the stranger from the tattoo parlor. “Oh! Oh, yeah. Just uh… The guy who runs the tattoo shop ran into me this morning in the storm. He couldn’t see ‘cuz his glasses were all fucked up.” Archie turned his attention back to his notes. “He was _soaked,_ man, so I had him come in and borrow a shirt.”

                “O---h.” Matt said, nodding in understanding and drawing out the sound. “That’s good. I was kinda worried for a minute there. Thought there was a hit here, or something.” He squinted, trying to gauge Archie’s reaction to this topic of conversation. It was nothing overt, but the man certainly seemed to be keeping it close to his vest.

                “So. Was he cute?” The other asked with a wicked little smile. Archie glanced up, stormy blue eyes glaring daggers.

                “Outside. Now.” He pointed at the door and Matt, shit eating grin plastered to his face, headed out.

                Apparently, yes.

~

                Maxie stared down over Tabitha’s shoulder, examining his employees work with a critical eye. One could almost swear that they could hear the rapid thumping of Tabitha’s heart as he sat in stiff silence, hoping to avoid the verbal lashing that came with disappointing his boss. “Mm… It seems alright. I might brighten up a few of the highlights. Maybe a sharp white, rather than a light blue? It would look better ultimately.”

                Tabitha’s body went slack with relief. “Oh! Perfect, I can do that no problem, sir.” He grinned briefly at Shelley who smiled back before turning his pleased expression on Maxie.

                Maxie seemed slightly surprised by the display but, giving the other a thin smile, simply replied, “See that you do. Keep up the good work, Tabitha.” Maxie was strict, but he was not cruel. Tabitha was a nervous, approval seeking man with an obvious admiration for Maxie. There was the faint beginnings of a friendship there, but considering just how guarded Maxie could be, the progress was slow. It kept him from displaying any excess of warmth, but it certainly wouldn’t stop him from building the other up in his own sparse way.

                He returned to find the front desk empty, Courtney quite absent. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and taking a seat at his desk and beginning to work again. He couldn’t begrudge her vanishing like this on occasion, what with her impeccable work performance. All the same, it never failed to irritate him when his employees were missing in action.

                It felt as though only seconds had crawled by when Courtney returned – though the clock seemed quite adamant in implying that it had been something closer to twenty minutes – with a dry set of clothes in hand and Maxie’s keys dangling from a thin finger.

                “You seemed a bit undone. I thought this might help.” She deposited the soft, dry clothes at his work station before taking her place at the front desk again. Maxie blinked in surprise, eyes darting between the clothes and his receptionist in a moment or two of stunned silence. He examined what she’d brought, relieved that she’d known him well enough to bring something long sleeved and muted in color.

                He stood to go and change, nodding his gratitude on his way past her desk and catching the sweet little smile she cast down to her paper. The day would go by much smoother now, he could feel it. In spite of the abnormal start to the day, things were looking to settle back into familiarity.

~

                “Thank you so much!” Shelley gushed, standing up from the chair and admiring the delicate work that Tabitha had done. It was the weighted black outline of a lotus flower that was messily filled in with a luminous blue that popped beautifully against her dark skin. She knew he’d been standing in for the big boss and his own hesitation at filling in had made her just the tiniest bit nervous. He’d done a marvelous job, regardless. “You keep up the great work, okay? I’m sure you’re just gonna get better and better.” She shook his hand before leaving the backroom and making her way through the front of the shop. She caught a glance from the _adorable_ receptionist and found herself casting the other a playful smile. The girl’s eyes snapped back down to her paper, though the corners of her mouth tweaked up in a smile. That was encouraging, she thought. She might stop by again sometimes and ask for her number.

                She opened the door of the shop which caused an artificial bell sound to chime as she passed out into the greatly improved day. The clouds were still heavy in the air, but the humidity had dispersed and the rain had stopped leaving only its refreshing scent. She was surprised to see Matt approaching, a broom and dustpan in hand.

                “And what are _you_ doing?” she asked, letting the door shut behind her.

                “Archie ran into the boss here. I think he might have a crush on him.”

                “Cut the shit! Really?” Shelley grinned and glanced over her shoulder, seeing the lanky man’s outline in the tinted window. “That’s fan- _tastic.”_ It was always a hoot when Archie was crushing. One of her favorite spectacles, actually.

                The door suddenly swung open again revealing Tabitha who was clutching a cluster of bangles that Courtney had slipped off of her wrist before the tattooing. “Miss! You forgot these.” He said, seeming quite relieved that she hadn’t gotten too far.

                “Thanks.” She slid the silver loops over her wrist, jangling them back into place. Matt and Tabitha shared a moment of silence where they both seemed to size each other up before the shorter man mumbled something about having some work to do and vanished back into the shop.

                Matt stared after him, seeming wholly captivated.

                Courtney quirked a brow, inching closer to Matt and tapping him on the shoulder. “Look at my tattoo.” She said, watching his eyes as she thrust her forearm up into his face. He seemed to stare through her.

                “That’s nice.”

                “Oh, _my god._ ” She grabbed him by the arm, tugging him in the direction of their shop. “C’mon, c’mon. You can be lovesick while you _work._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus! School was hectic and the first month of summer was spent in a creative block to end all blocks. I'm not satisfied with this chapter, it feels messy and cluttered but! I hope you guys like it. As always, criticism and feedback is welcomed and I appreciate you taking the time to read! Have a lovely day/night!!


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